Tempted by the Tycoon's Proposal

‘Has she gone?’

He nodded, his smile filled with the warmth persisting in spite of his mental turmoil. ‘I’ll help you.’

He crossed the room and leaned over the bed, lifting Lily’s heavy head from Sophia’s arm so that she could slip out. He laid his daughter back down and Sophia pulled the quilt higher up her body, tucking it beneath her chin. He leaned in to kiss his daughter’s head and ended up being head to head with Sophia as she’d gone to do the same. Their eyes collided and in that one look he saw so much, felt so much deep inside.

His eyes fell to her lips, the urge to kiss her so natural and strong that he was lucky she pulled back, lucky she’d seen sense where he couldn’t.

He kissed his daughter’s forehead and straightened up, reminding himself of the promises he’d made and why.

Only the reasoning was starting to feel woolly, less reasonable...bordering on monastic even.

Sophia padded out of the room, a move he sensed rather than saw as his eyes were fixed on his daughter, his mind focused on the reasoning that had always seemed so solid.

He already felt so much for Sophia, so much that he could hardly get a handle on it, and though he was sure it had a lot to do with Lily’s feelings for her, it didn’t help.

Maybe they just needed to agree on expectations now to avoid any future confusion. Set some ground rules even. Chaos at work was the result of mismanagement, so maybe he just needed to lay down the law in his personal life and protect both Lily and Sophia.

Who was he kidding? He wanted to protect himself too.

It had been harrowing losing Elena, a woman for whom he’d cared deeply but hadn’t loved as she’d wanted, as she’d deserved. He was convinced he was wired wrong, that being stuck in the system for so long had screwed him up emotionally. Even Elena had thrown as much at him on many occasions; virtually every fight had come down to his inability to care, to think of her enough, to empathise.

And he’d come to believe she was right, but now he wasn’t so sure. Whatever Sophia sparked in him, it was new and it was different, and it scared him half to death.

But not enough to run the other way...

CHAPTER SEVEN

‘YOU REALLY ARE a natural.’

Sophia looked up at the sound of Jack’s voice and felt her cheeks colour, as if she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t. But she was only guilty of curling up on the L-shaped sofa that dominated the living area in his penthouse suite.

This wasn’t her domain though. As much as she knew this suite like she knew her own home, she didn’t belong, not like this.

But she felt as if she did.

She’d felt it when she’d been lying next to Lily, reading her the story. She’d felt it all day as they’d laughed and joked and enjoyed the company of her friends. And she felt it now... It was only the rational side of her brain telling her it was all still fantasy.

‘A natural?’ She cocked a brow and let her eyes fall to the empty glasses hooked in his fingers and the bottle of red he carried—the very rare bottle of red that would have been pulled out of the cellar especially. Definitely all fantasy.

He offered her a glass and she took it, wetting her lips. She shouldn’t be taking it; she shouldn’t be letting this evening continue now Lily was asleep. But the sound of the deep red liquid hitting the glass told her otherwise. Her tummy fluttered with a mixture of nerves and desire...

But she did want to talk to him about Lily, and it was as good a reason as any to stay longer.

Still, she wasn’t fool enough to think it was her only reason.

‘You’re a natural with kids, with Lily,’ he explained as he poured his own glass and set the bottle down on the large glass coffee table. ‘You looked completely at home reading her a story.’

He joined her on the sofa—not close enough that she could feel the sofa dip but close enough that her entire body came alive with awareness of his.

She took a sip of the wine and used its soothing warmth to unblock her throat and calm the flutters taking off inside. She felt unbearably hot and cursed her own stupidity for lighting the gas fire that ran along one wall. She hadn’t been able to resist it though; it was her favourite feature in the immense suite, that and the view. And she had been cold before his arrival, cold and on edge about the tough conversation she wanted to have and no idea how to broach it.

‘I used to read to my sister,’ she murmured, her eyes lost in the flames as she divulged an honest piece of herself and remembered happier times.

‘Mum and Dad worked long hours so I’d often take over the bedtime routine—bath, teeth, bed and book.’ She risked a glance his way and became transfixed. The grey of his eyes, warmed by the glow of the fire, shone as the pulse in his jaw ticked, his face oddly tense.

She wet her lips. ‘Sorry to take your place tonight.’

He shook his head. ‘You think that worries me?’